Stuck
by awesomeasusual
Summary: "Her skin is gray, the scales running down her neck and arms a dull green, the fins at the end of her long tail split. Her eyes are glazed over, the protective film protecting her light absorbing green eyes dry and cracked. She's squirms weakly, the foot, foot and a half of water barely sloshes with her movements." Mermaid AU.
1. Chapter 1

Soul ducks under the caution tape, careful not to disturb the small, numbered cones dotting the apartment carpet. Fantasy posters plaster the dingy walls, paraphernalia line the shelves. He steps closer to a small glass jar, the silver liquid inside glowing quietly.

 _Unicorn,_ he frowns. _Fresh._

A packet of cigarettes smacks into the back of his head.

"Think fast, rookie," says a tall, blonde agent, grinning and adjusting a camera strap.

Soul rubs a hand through his hair. "I think you're supposed to say that _before_ you throw something, Liz."

She shrugs. "Where's the fun in that?" She takes a round of photos, slamming on the shutter release. Black dots taint his vision, blinding him. He blinks, and Liz cocks her head towards the back of the cramped apartment.

"Rung is in the bathroom collecting samples. Is your brother coming to pick up the specimen?"

Soul straightens his tie under his leather jacket, trying not to feel like a little brother.

"He's busy with Roswell. Kid had to send someone else."

"And Kid thought _you'd_ be a good pick?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Heat rises from his neck and he puffs his deflating chest. "Only the coolest guys for the Investigative Unit."

Liz snorts and bites back whatever she's going to say as Soul's face burns brighter; he's not 17 anymore, he _can_ embarrass himself into an office job again.

"Go on then, Cool Guy," Liz says as she clicks through the saved images on her camera. "Might want to pop on some sunglasses. It's bright as hell in there."

She turns away before he has a chance to ask why, the flash on her camera illuminating the hastily drawn symbols on the wall. They're shiny, the edges still dripping green. He squints at it over Liz's shoulder and she grimaces.

"Mermaid blood." She doesn't bother hiding her sniff. "Rat bastard."

Soul raises his hand awkwardly to pat her shoulder but quickly changes it's direction, landing in his hair. He keeps it there until he's at the bathroom door, pretending to scratch an itch, diligently ignoring Liz's stifled laughter.

Inside is like a shrine. Lit candles crowd every surface, filling the room with their sickly and sweet scent, and it makes Soul choke. He tries to blow a few out, but there are too many so he flicks the the lights, to no avail, so he gropes the wall for the switch.

"Don't do that," warns Kilik Rung, collecting samples with a pair of tweezers between the fingers of his rubber gloves. "She's not used to the light."

Soul peers over Rung's shoulder and tries to hide his shock behind the back of his hand.

Her skin is gray, the scales running down her neck and arms a dull green, the fins at the end of her long tail split. Her eyes are glazed over, the protective film protecting her light absorbing green eyes dry and cracked. She's squirms weakly, the foot, foot and a half of water barely sloshes with her movements.

"Wow," he whispers.

Kilik gives a muted chuckle. "First mermaid?" He snips a few strands from her blond hair. They fall from the root as Kilik pulls away, and she tries to curl deeper in the tub, her tail flicking Soul's leg. It barely moves him.

"Aw, man," Kilik sighs. "She isn't gunna last long. Shame. She's a beauty." He pulls a few more scales from her tale, the mermaid flinching with each pull.

There's a loud _smack_ and Kilik is sprawled on his back, his test tubes overturned, a palm-shaped welt in the middle of his forehead. The mermaid's arm hangs over the lip of the tub as she pants, her fire snuffed as quickly as it blazed.

"Hey," Soul said, kneeling by the tub. "I don't think she's gone yet." He watches her for a moment, searching her face. Her head turn a fraction towards him.

"What language do they speak?"

"Uhhhh, mermish?" says Kilik, rubbing his forehead. "I wont be able to collect any more samples from the specimen safely. We'll get more at the lab."

Soul nods vaguely as Kilik leaves the room with his tools and tubes, still watching the mermaid for movement. She blinks and breathes, her white lips cracked and oozing green blood; the outburst must have cost her any energy she had left.

"I wish I knew your name," he muses. "It's probably a bummer, getting called _the specimen._ "

He taps the edge of her tub as a goodbye, and stand to fill out paperwork, and call the office. They'll need transportation, preferable a van that can fit a tub in the back, or maybe he'll ask for a limo with a built in hot tubs, just for kicks-

"Maka."

Soul whips around, his cell phone halfway to his ear.

"Maka," Soul repeats stupidly.

The mermaid- _Maka-_ inclines her head slowly.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes a while for the team to haul the specimen- ah, Maka- out of the tub. The team wraps her in soaking wet blankets until she looks like a grumpy, blond, fish burrito. She struggles, and while she is still weak, her wiggling makes the small patient lift unstable. She falls out twice, landing with a sharp hiss as her head bangs against the tub, and then as her tail slaps the stained tile of the bathroom floor, the thin rug offering her no protection. Finally, Soul just lifts her into his arms, burrito blankets and all, and carries her down stairs. It was completely against protocol; Kid starts blowing up his cell phone less than thirty seconds Soul gets out the front door. Maka is surprisingly placid against his chest as they make their way out of the cramped apartment. She only moves when she shrinks into him, pressing her face against his collarbone while they walk down the hallway, protecting her eyes from the harsh lights of the hallway.

Maka shifts as his cell phone vibrates in his breast pocket. She mumbles something, but doesn't lift her head from his shirt.

"She's awfully comfortable," smirks Liz as they lumber towards the apartment gates. "I'm kind of jealous."

"Don't be," Soul grunts. "She's heavy as fuck."

Maka squawks at that, twisting in his arms. Soul stumbles, trying to keep a good hold on her.

"She didn't like that too much," observes Liz. "At least we know for sure she understands English."

"I will drop you," Soul threatens, and Maka settles down, glaring at him, though the intensity is lost as her movements cost her more energy than she has. "Did you call Kid?" asks Soul. "He's the only one who refuses to stop calling until I pick up."

"Wasn't me," Liz cocks her head behind them, where a man in glasses mutters darkly. "Ox, probably. He doesn't like you damaging his evidence."

Ox, taking his cue, speeds up, pushing a gurney in front of them. "You can't take her out there," he huffs. "There's a crowd. Here," he pulls back a long zipper, opening a black bag large enough to hold a person.

Maka grabs a handful of Soul's shirt, putting distance between her and the body bag.

"That's so morbid," Liz grimaces.

"There's no other way to get her out of here undetected," Ox says, motioning to Soul to put Maka on the gurney.

Maka claws at Soul, making him take a few steps back. "Yeah, she's not going in there," Soul says, wincing as Maka's nails dug into his chest.

"It's this or the sewers."

Soul sighs and dumps Maka onto the gurney. Maka gives an exaggerated pout, and twists on the gurney, her tail swinging wildly.

"Cut that out," snaps Soul. He grabs the end of her tail and stuffs it into the bag, ignoring Maka's screeching protests.

"Careful!" Ox exclaims. "Any damage caused post-capture will adversely affect our research."

Soul stops and stares Ox dead in the eye. "She's not evidence. We have to get her back to her home. That's our job."

"We're investigators. Scientists! We're here to learn about it."

"Is that anyway to talk about a lady?" Soul gripes, zipping Maka up. She puts her hand over his before he covers her face, pleading with her eyes.

"Do you know what sewers are?" he implores.

She hisses one last time, and settles in.

Soul turns to Ox and says, "We're not going to keep her trapped like a zoo animal. She's sentient. She has a home. And a tank in your office isn't it."

"It's not in my office," Ox says defensively. "We have a lab."

Soul straightens his back and steps forward, looming over Ox. Soul's not much taller than him, but Ox fights a cower, his shoulders working their way up to his ears.

"We're fixing her up," Soul steps forward again; Ox stumbles back. "We are returning her to her home." Another step. "She was in that bathtub for who knows how long. We have to help Maka."

Ox's shoulders drop. "You named the puppy." He sounds disappointed.

Soul blinks. "She came with a name."

"You named the puppy," Ox repeats, shaking his head pityingly.

"Stop saying that," Soul says flatly.

"Soul, she's weak. We don't know what she eats, if we can even get it for her, we don't know if we can give her a blood transfusion if she needs one, we're not sure if her scales will grow back, if she has magic, if she needs it to live, or if she's even from any body of water around here. Soul," Ox drops voice and turns away from the gurney. "She might not even make it."

Soul glances over Ox's narrow shoulder. Maka waves at him from the little crack in the zipper.

"We need to study her, so we can help the next one." Ox ignores Soul's blithering objections, and says "There will be another one. The whole set up- Kilik said it was ritualistic. He's done it before, but we didn't find any trace of the asshole. No DNA, surprisingly. Either he did a good job cleaning up after himself or he's smarter than we are. For her sake, her safety, we need to get her back to the lab."

Soul glares at his shoes and pushes past Ox, taking the gurney with him.

"And about the lab! It's roomy!" Ox calls after them. Soul picks up his pace, gesturing to Liz who opens the complex gate. A small crowd has gathered there, drawn by the flashing blue and red lights of the Investigative Unit car, and the yellow caution tape. Soul tugs the zipper closed, shutting Maka completely in the black bag.

"Sorry," he mumbles to her. He doubts he could hear him, but he felt better, as if comforting her would comfort him.

Small flashes from cell phone cameras burst all around them as they push out of the apartment gates. It takes all of Soul's hard won self control not to hiss at them.


	3. Chapter 3

They arrive at the Bureau and Maka is immediately rolled away to parts unknown. Her screeches echo through the hall as the space between them grows.

He's pretty sure he hears his name garbled among her screams.

Soul tries to sit at his desk, fill out his paperwork, complete his fieldwork assignment, but glinting scales and soft, green eyes distract him so much that he ends up sketching her on the corner of his report.

He's not sure how he's going to explain that one without wanting to set himself on fire.

Soul crumples his report into a ball and chucks it at the wastebasket on his way out of the door. He stalks the hallways, peeking into every cracked door he can. He becomes aware of three new office romances before he finally gets to a secluded lab at the end of a dim hallway.

He only went that way because Ox's office was on the opposite end of the building, and Soul knows the idiot thinks he is smarter than Soul.

Soul does a 180 and steps in a broom closet as the lab door swings open, a flustered Ox drying his bald scalp with a towel slips out. Soul leaves the door cracked as he listens.

"She won't talk to us, she won't eat; this is the _third_ suit she's ruined this week. I told Kid we needed a smaller tank," Ox grumbled into a wireless headset.

Ox pauses and puts the mouthpiece closer to his lips as he shouts, "I'm _not_ asking Evans for help. This is my lab. My project. I'll take care of the mermaid. Any discoveries are going to be mine and mine alone." Ox stalks down the hallway, steam practically rising from his ears.

Ox doesn't look back to see that the lab door remained unlocked.

Soul slipped in and entered Ox's lock combo.

 _O-X-R-O-X._

The steel lock slide into place, locking Soul inside.

He turns to take in the lab, hoping that wherever Maka was kept wasn't hidden somewhere else, because Ox wasn't the type to leave the lab for very long, unless it was to harass Kim, the head of Magical Practices and Research.

He doesn't have to look far.

The tank is about as wide as his entire apartment, and taller than he is by a couple of feet. It touches the lab walls at each end, the only space left over saved for a small, square table covered in notes, a laptop, and a small tray of raw fish. There's a ladder in the middle of the floor, which appears to have caused a large dent in the wall opposite of the tank.

She's swims slowly, but her long tail's powerful strokes sending her from one end of the tank to the other in a couple of seconds.

Soul watches her until her she swims too far, her face lost and dreamy, and bonks her head on the tank glass. The air rushes out of her mouth in a stream of bubbles as she clutches her head, squinting through the bleak of what looks like a pretty gnarly headache.

He barks out a laugh and Maka swims blindly to the opposite end of the tank, as far as she can away from Soul.

"Hey," he says, tapping on the glass. Maka winces, but opens her eyes and smiles, swimming to the top of the tank.

"Hello." Her voice is cheery, but scratchy from under use. "Don't tap on the glass."

He looks up at her and awkwardly withdraws his hand from the tank's surface. "So the rumor is true?"

She scrunches her nose and it's the most adorable thing Soul has ever seen. "What rumor?"

"Tapping on the glass bothers fish."

Maka sputters indignantly, and splashes water at him. "I'm not a fish!"

Soul scrambles to cover his hair, and she laughs at his squirming. She dives back down in her tank, taking a couple of turns and glancing back at him. For the first time, he notices that she's not wearing a shirt, or a seashell bra. She's not wearing anything at all. He sees her skin, and he sees her scales; they're iridescent in the harshly lit lab, fluctuating between pink and blue and green.

Soul licks his lips and tastes salt.

He looks around for a moment, because staring is considered rude in most cultures, probably even in mermaid ones. His eyes stop at the ladder strewn across the lab, oddly bend and missing a rung. Soul grabs it and balances it precariously against the tank, climbing it carefully until he can see over the lip of the tank.

Maka swims up to him, surfacing. She perches her elbows on the tank beside him, smiling. Soul tries to smiles back but falters when the ladder wobbles under his weight. She giggles and grabs the top rung before he topples over and he can finally smile at her, albeit gratefully.

He steadies himself for a moment before asking, "Did Ox try to talk to you or something?"

Maka scowls and Soul tries not to be amused by her mercurial moods. "Yes," she says sullenly. "He kept asking me things, trying to feed me fish."

"Don't eat fish?"

She shakes her head, her nose reverted to that ridiculously cute wrinkle. He's close enough to touch her, and his hand moves from the top rung of the ladder to the edge of the tank but it's too late. She pushes herself off casually, floating a few feet towards the middle of the tank.

Soul tries again. "Do you like it here?"

She shrugs, mouth twisted into a pout. "It's not a tub." She dives down and takes a few turns, occasionally bumping into the walls of the tank. When she resurfaces, she grins and spits a stream of water at him.

He gets it.

It's not a bathtub, but it's not the ocean.

"I'll get you home," he swears.

Maka raises an eyebrow. "You will?"

"Yes," Soul says vehemently. "I promise; you'll be home by the end of the week. Whatever it takes."

She flashes him the biggest, most beautiful smile he has ever seen in his life as she quickly swims up to him. She lifts herself to meet his eyes, her hands on either side on his on the edge of the tank.

She brushes her nose against his; an innocent gesture of mermaid appreciation, his brain is sure, but his heart threatens to leap up his throat.

"Thank you," she whispers.

The door behind him creaks open and there's a shout but Soul can't hear it. Maka hisses and dives back into the water; the resulting slash hits him in the face, waking him up and soaking his clothes. Shaking his head to clear the fog, he lowers himself down the ladder, a screeching Ox waiting for him.

"You're contaminating the evidence," Ox shouts. "We don't even know if she has diseases humans can get, or if we have something that could kill her!"

"She shouldn't even be here," Soul snaps. "She belongs in the ocean.

Ox looks stricken for a second. "What did she say to you?" He asks, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Soul's taken aback. It's not like Ox to display any emotion towards another human being, other than contempt and occasionally nauseating romantic obsession when it came to Kim, the Head of Witchcraft Research. "Why?"

"She hasn't said a word," Ox says in a low voice. "I've been trying for days, weeks-"

"Ain't got the moves, huh?"

"Shut up," Ox hisses. Soul snorts but obliges, turning from Ox in favor of watching Maka do laps in her tank. She eyes Ox suspiciously, occasionally mouthing what looks like some vicious swear words in his direction.

Ox watches Maka, too, frustration etching lines between his eyebrows and around his mouth. "I need your help," he mutters.

Soul starts, and quickly tries to hide it by lacing both hands behind his head. "What was that?"

"I'm not getting anywhere with my research," Ox says. "She won't cooperate with me; but she seems to accept you, if not like you."

Soul hopes his hot face can be played off as sunburn, but it's the middle of winter and he's blushing like a preteen band geek getting ready to ask the cutest girl in middle school to the dance. He's not sure why he's so red, it might have something to do with Maka and how she's staring right back at him, smiling and hiding behind the fins of her tail.

"I need your help," Ox spits behind gritted teeth.

Soul stretches. "What's in it for me?" he asks, as if he hasn't already agreed to it 1000 times in his head.

"You can be third author for my paper on mermaid nutrition and health habits."

"Pass."

"Second author?" Ox wheedles.

"Hard pass."

"$50 per session," Ox snaps. " _And_ I'll give you the key to the lab."

Key to the lab… He could stay with Maka after hours... plot their- _her_ \- escape….

"Fine, fine," Soul says offhandedly. "I'll do it. But you owe me."

Ox explodes into a rain of thanks and sniveling, so Soul quickly makes his exit, but not before saying good-bye to Maka. He scales the ladder again, and sticks his arms in the water, up to his elbows. He hardly expects her to grab both of his hands in hers and grinning at him and squeezing his hands from beneath the surface.

She's ethereal and oddly precious, her golden hair swirling around her, the sharpness in her eyes enhanced by the light bouncing off the small waves.

Soul was going to get her out of there.

 _Whatever it takes._


	4. Chapter 4

With feigned reluctance and a sparkly new set of lab keys, Soul spends his lunch breaks up to his elbows in tank water. Usually Ox hovers nearby, to Maka's apparent displeasure. She keeps sending huge waves at him with her tail, dousing Ox in water. Ox takes twenty minutes to dry himself and his thick glasses off, giving Soul and Maka get a chance to spend some quiet time together. Soul wonders if Ox as gotten the hint yet, but much like Ox's constant rejections from Kim, he seems to be missing it or ignoring it.

"He _really_ wants answers," Soul muses after the third time in an afternoon Maka soaks Ox. "What is he even asking you?"

Soul's tried to avoid asking her anything, not wanting to add to her stress, but he's painfully curious. He half expects her to shy away to try drown him, too. But she huffs out a breath and says "Who I am, where I am from, h-how I ended up in the t-tub."

"Who I am, where I am from, h-how I ended up in the t-tub." She turns green for a second and dips back under the water, her eyes closed. Her hair flows around her in the water, golden and light, as Soul seethes, pissed at the asshole who took Maka from her home and stuck her, the beautiful, elegant creature that she was, in a shitty bathroom in the worst part of town.

When Maka pops up again, she's still green but laces her fingers through Soul's. She rests her chin on the lip of the tank, her tiny mouth set in a pout. "I don't want to think about it anymore," she says, squeezing her eyes shut.

Soul squeezes her hands back, just as tight: A silent reminder of his promise to help her escape.

Back in his office, Soul's desk is littered with maps and blueprints. He pours over them when he should be filling out paperwork, mapping out the quickest exits out of the Bureau. As far as he knows, their options of limited; most of the exits are laden with security cameras or guards, and those that aren't are sewer related. He cringes at the thought of dragging Maka through toxic sludge, having avoided it once, but he needs to do whatever it takes to get her home.

Even if it isn't with him anymore.

Soul has the final plan in place, the wheelchair hidden in a nearby janitors closet, and flashlights hidden in vents along his chosen route. He and Maka just have to be patient, and wait for the right moment.

But then Soul walks into the lab nearly trips over his own feet. He finds Ox knocking on Maka's tank harshly, the sound echoing in the small lab. "We found you and saved you, but we might not find the others."

Maka tucks herself into the corner of the tank, her hands plastered over her ears, glaring daggers at Ox.

"How many others didn't we manage to find? How many are buried in unmarked graves who the hell knows where. You have to tell us, Maka. You can help save them."

"Stop," Soul hissed. He grabs Ox by the back of his labcoat and yanks him back. Ox shrugs off his coat, making Soul stumble back with a pile of white fabric in his hands.

"Who else has to die?" Ox insists. "Have your friends gone missing before? Are there rumors, stories about a man who takes mermaids and never brings them back?"

Maka's lips tremble and her eyes squeeze shut. She tries to press herself further into the glass walls of the tank, but there's no where for her to hide.

Ox barrels on. "You're not going to help us, your people? You're not even going to try?"

"Shut up," Soul says quietly. He stares at Maka, her fists pressed into her closed eyes. She's in distress, and Soul needs to stop it. He needs to save her. She's an innocent.

"How selfish are you?" Ox bangs on the tank again. Maka flinches with each pound of his fist. "You won't help save more? You're just going to let him kill again?"

"I said shut up," Soul snarled, gripping Ox's shoulder tightly and wrenching him away from Maka. He shoves Ox across the room, anger radiating off of him.

Maka unleashes a silent scream, bubbles rushing from her mouth. She shoots up to the surface in a rush of waves and gasps for breath as tears stream down her face, the salty trails barely discernible from her wet face. Maka struggles to the opposite rim of her tank, turning her away from them.

Away from Soul.

Ox clicks his tongue disgustedly.

"At least we found out one thing," Ox says, taking his notebook out of his pocket and writing something down.

"What?" Soul asked, clenching his fists.

Ox taps his pen against the plastic rims of his square glasses. "Mermaids can cry."

"You're a dick," Soul says flatly.

"I'm a researcher," Ox shrugs. "And I'm going to research how to save more mermaids' lives. Not just this one."

"You think we're done saving her?" Soul asks, livid. "We have to give her back!"

Ox rolls his eyes. "Give her back to what?" he says tiredly. "We don't know anything about her. Or her captor. You know, he might not have been at fault at all."

Soul stalks away from Ox. "You don't know what you're talking about." Maka would never choose to stay in a _bathtub_. She had been trapped there by an evil, deranged man. Why was Ox pretending that Maka was anything less than a victim?

"There are legends, Soul," Ox calls to him. "Legends of mermaids tricking men into following them into the ocean. To drown them and eat their flesh."

Maka gags from her side of the tank, still not looking at either of them.

"No," Soul says firmly. "Maka's not a killer." He scales the ladder and reaches for her, still clinging to the opposite side of the tank, heaving and trying to catch her breath. "Maka," he whispers.

It's impossible for someone who has giant, glittery, innocent eyes to be a killer. He'd see it, she couldn't hide it from him. She wouldn't even try.

"Be careful." Something in Ox's voice makes Soul turn around. It sounds oddly like concern. "She's pretty, but the literature surrounding mermaids isn't."

Soul scoffs, but seeds of doubt dig themselves into his mind. He wants to respect Maka's privacy, seeing as how she was the victim of a terrible crime, but what if she's actually hiding something serious from him? What if she was somehow involved in getting herself stuck in the tub?

Maka inches over to him, calmer but her eyes are still streaming. "He's horrible," she whimpers.

Soul hesitates. "Is he right, though?"

Maka blinks tears out of her eyes. For the first time, Soul notices a double set of eyelids: One normal, human like set, and a secondary, clear set. He makes a mental note to tell Ox about it later.

 _What else has she been hiding?_

His resolve melts as she looks at him like a kicked puppy.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," Maka hisses. "I didn't want- No one would want- I was trying to save-"

She can't finish because she's gasping for air again. Soul grasps her hand and she nearly breaks his fingers with the pressure she puts on him. She pulls him closer, sinking down in the water so that it is up to her chin, and Soul has to partially lean over the edge of the tank. Her lips are by his ear; as she speaks, her warm breath washes over his cheek.

Maka takes a few deep breaths and speaks slowly, in a low voice. It resonates in his ear, quiet but strong.

"H-he takes one of us every few years. Always at night, always the smallest."

Soul's shoulders stiffen. _Always one that would fit in a tub_.

"We used to think it was just what happened," Maka continued, her grip on his hand growing tighter with each word. "Ever since my mother was a little girl. We would fall asleep and our young would go missing. The little ones were the most vulnerable to seals and sometimes sharks so we would mourn them like so. But seals and sharks leave… evidence. The elders began to grow suspicious. By the time I was born, they knew."

She leans her forehead against his cheek. "He takes our children, our little girls."

Soul fights the nausea as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, ignoring the water soaking his sleeve, sick at the psycho that hurt all little mermaids, sick at his own doubt. He strokes her back in silent apology, mindful of the still raw scales growing from her spine.

"One night, I think it was weeks, maybe a month ago," she starts to breath hard again. "I lost track in the… tub."

"You don't have to-"

"No," Maka says, leaning back to look at him straight on. Her eyes are still wet but she doesn't waver. Her voice is as strong as her grip as her places her hand on his shoulder, steadying herself, and him. "You're going to find him and I'm going to help. No more girls."

He swore to do whatever it took to help her, and now what it took was to shut up and listen. So he does, with a reassuring hand over hers.

"Every year, at night, he comes to our shore. We keep our young in the middle of the squad, but somehow he lured us to sleep, a deeper sleep. Sentries, guards, mothers; all of us. The air was so heavy, it was hard to breath. I don't know how, but I managed to keep my eyes open. I could barely move," Maka added thoughtfully. "And the air was green."

 _Some kind of gas,_ Soul thinks.

"He took his time, looking over the group. We had a lot of little ones this year, he must have had a hard time choosing. He finally picked one up, one with black scales and pale skin, but he had taken too long. He stepped over me as he left and I couldn't help it, I needed to help. So I grabbed his leg and bit it as hard as I could. He dropped the little one and she began to cry. My head got clearer and the others started to stir. I think he panicked; it had never happened before. He grabbed me and rushed to the boat. That's the last thing I remember before the tub."

She cocks her head, furrowing blonde eyebrows. "He was lighting candles when I woke up. All different kinds-"

"How do mermaids know about candles?" Soul interrupts.

Maka stares at him with ire.

"The same way we know about bathtubs," she says poking him hard on the shoulder. Maka takes a deep breath, drifting back pensively. "The smell was so strong, it made me light headed. It was hard to concentrate. He would come in once a day, I think, and give me food. Raw salmon, usually," she adds, wrinkling her nose.

"Shame," Soul deadpans. "I really like sushi."

"I prefer oysters," Maka says with a smile. Releasing Soul with a sigh, she sinks back into the water. He takes it as a dismissal; she's talked herself out and he wants to respect her space.

Soul hops off of the ladder and strides towards Ox who's vibrating with excitement.

"We're looking for a shore, somewhere secluded, only accessible by small boat, and probably warm. _Fascinating._ Make sure she eats something," Ox adds, scribbling so furiously in his notebook it's almost smoking. "We can order oysters from a local- _owfuck!"_

Soul has snatched Ox's notebook and smacked him with it. "You're fucked up," Soul says. "You're an asshole," _smack_ "and if Maka tries to kill you," _smack_ "I won't try and stop her."

Soul drops the notebook and shoves his hands into his pockets. He walks to Maka's tank and just manages not to kick in in frustration.

She swims up to him with a sad smile, pausing to glare at Ox over his shoulder. Soul can hear Ox grumbling about setting a timer, clocking how long Maka can stay underwater.

Soul mutters obscenities and shifts to block Maka from Ox's view. It's definitely time to get her the hell out of there. She's been through enough, first in the horrendous conditions in the tub, and now in the lab. Maka had people, maybe even a family. Soul had promised to help, and he was going to make good on that promise.

 _Tonight,_ he mouths to Maka. Her eyes illuminate the dim room and she does a happy backflip out of the water, the resulting splash soaking him and Ox. The researcher groans and starts stripping his white cloak off, while Soul ignores his wet clothes and simply presses a hand against the glass of the tank. Maka copies him, her hand dwarfed compared to his.

 _Tonight._


	5. Chapter 5

Soul's sweating through his black shirt; it's not exactly how he wants to swoop in to save Maka. He debated the headband, but he had to keep his hair out of his face somehow. He's got the keys to the main gate he won off Blake the security chief in a bet, and several blankets. It would be weird to wheel around a topless girl in a fish costume at top speed, and it's nowhere near enough to October to have Halloween as an excuse, so he has to improvise.

This might be the stupidest idea he's ever come up with, other than that bet with Blake. There's probably no way in hell the night guard would take his bribe, he would definitely be caught on one or thirty security cameras, and he'd probably end up shot in the face.

But Soul _had_ to try.

He sneaks into Ox's lab, tiptoeing as quietly as he can in his heavy boots. And splashes into the the room.

Maka flops in the middle of the room, the glass from the tank shattered, and the water nearly ankle-high.

"What… the hell, Maka?"

"Getting fresh air," Maka snaps as her tail slaps the tile helplessly. She has little cuts up and down her exposed skin from the shattered glass. Soul picks his way across the room, careful not to disturb the shards closest to her.

"Maka," he says quietly and she stops struggling.

"I wasn't sure you were coming," she admits. She gives another flop and mumbles, "I wanted out. I'm stuck in another tub."

It should hurt, that she didn't trust him, that she was so desperate to escape that she would put her life in danger to do so, but he's trying not to laugh, watching her twitch like a fish out of water. Which she was. Sort of.

"And what exactly was your plan?" he asks incredulously, stepping carefully over the shattered glass, and kneels beside her. He can feel the sharp pieces of the tank dig through his jeans but he ignores it. "Break out of the tank and army crawl to the ocean?"

Maka wrinkles her nose and gingerly leans back on her elbows. "I was hoping it was a full moon."

Soul cocks his head. "Why does it have to be a full moon?"

Maka pales. "No reason," she mumbles, squirming in discomfort. "Are you going to help me up or leave me in a bunch of glass?"

"Alright, alright," he says with an eye roll. He scoops her up as best he can, but can't help the little cuts they get as they maneuver the shattered tank. "We're going to get shanked. By the tank. Which you broke."

Maka opens the door for them, and Soul tries not to think of a groom carrying his bride over a threshold.

Because that would be super lame.

It's a very serious moment, he's _rescuing her from a life of being poked and prodded by Ox,_ and he definitely doesn't blush when she casually wraps her arms around his neck.

"Where are we going?" She asks, her tail undulating up and down.

"To your chariot." He motions for her to open the lab door, and she does.

Soul thinks he should have known that it wouldn't be so easy, especially because the tank Maka was housed in was double reinforced and had motion sensors pinned on it since she got to the Bureau, but he had hoped.

As they stand before a growing crowd of guards, hefting complicated looking guns, helmet shields firmly in place, they cling to each other in utter surprise.

Their surprise turns to contempt as Ox steps out from behind a particularly tall guard.

"Soul," says Ox, shaking his head. "Oh, Soul. Soul, Soul, Soul. I warned you."

"Wasn't listening," Soul shrugs.

Ox bristles. "You're about to steal government property, Evans. Release it, and we'll give you a fair trial."

"Her name is Maka," Soul snarls. "And she's not property. She belongs in the ocean."

"She belongs to the Bureau, in my lab, under _my_ direction!" Ox stomps, like a shiny-headed, temperamental child. He points an accusatory finger at Soul. "You just want all the credit."

"Credit for what?" Soul asks incredulously. "Keeping an innocent girl from her home and family?"

Ox rolls his eyes. "She's not a girl. She's a test subject."

"Not anymore," Maka pipes.

Ox's jaw drops. "Y-you never talk to me."

"That's because you suck."

Soul stifles a snort as she whispers, "Plan B?"

"There really wasn't a Plan A."

Maka claps her hands over Soul's ears and screams.

It's more like a screech, very high pitched. It reverberates in his chest, his very soul, and he struggles to hold on her Maka as his legs turn to jelly. The sound seems to have a similar effect on the guards, who clutch their shattered helmet shields and keel over.

Soul doesn't have time to regain his senses before Maka's slaps his chest. "We have to move," she coaxes.

They step over Ox, who clutches his head his head on the ground, groaning pitifully.

"Why didn't you do that before?" Soul grits out, his brain still rattling around in his skull. "Could have saved us a lot of time, and about half of my brain cells."

"Wasn't the right time," Maka replies, urging him forward. "Let's go!"

They move, tripping over armored limbs as they went, down the hall to where Soul stashed the wheelchair. He sets her down in it and keeps moving, pushing Maka in the wheelchair as he runs. The rest of the building is quiet, apparently Ox didn't expect to be overcome by a little fish girl and a desk jockey.

They manage to get to where his brother's beat up pick up is parked when they hear the sirens. In a rush of adrenalin, Soul tosses Maka in the van, the wheelchair in the back, and throws himself into the drivers seat. Ignoring all signs, he races towards the exit. Black SUVs swarm them as they exit the lot and turn down the street.

In his hysteria, Soul briefly considers taking her back to his place, making her comfortable there for a while. She would be fine for a few hours out of the water, but he could always fill up his…

Bathtub.

 _It wouldn't be captivity, but it wouldn't be freedom._

In truth, his place is probably being turned upside down as they barrel down the surprisingly traffic free boulevard.

"They knew," Soul hisses as he abruptly turns left. The tires of the Bureau SUVs squeal as they try to follow, and Soul notes in satisfaction that one hulking black vehicle as flipped onto it's side.

"Neither of us were very subtle," Maka dismisses. "Turn here!"

The truck angles on two tires, wavering dangerously, before slamming on all four again and ripping down the road. SUVs behind them swerve and crash

"Alright," Soul exclaims. But more vehicles swarm them, their blue and red lights flashing against the dawn.

"Shit," Maka hisses. Soul doesn't have time to be amused (or shocked, because where in the hell did she get that word from) because Maka's gripping the steering wheel, making them swerve precariously between lanes.

"That way," she urges. "Go that way."

He obeys, pressing the gas harder as a thought flickers through his mind. "Wait… how do you know where we are?"

"I've been around here before," Maka says absently.

"How?!"

Maka merely points, as the blue of the ocean appears over the horizon.

There's no time for more questions: Gunshots ring out. They lose their rearview mirror, and the back pane shatters.

He could just drive them, full speed, into the ocean and solve all of their problems.

 _The pier looms in front of them._

Soul shakes his head and slams the break. "We're getting you into the water."

Maka struggles as he tries to unbuckle her seat belt.

"They're not going to hurt you," he says, pulling her out and quickly settling her back in the wheelchair.

"But they'll hurt _you,_ " she pleads.

That's entirely probably, but not the point right now.

The point is Maka, and getting her away from this mess, the mess he helped create. He pushes her, full speed, down the peer.

"You're surrounded," calls Ox over the megaphone. Soul looks up. Ox is hanging half out of a helicopter, a helmet obscuring his stupid face. "Give me my mermaid back."

They're trapped, mice in little snapping devices, like a less fun version of a game board.

"Surrender now, and you'll only spend 15 years in prison for theft of government property."

Maka's hidden things from him. Big things. He's not sure how she knows so much about the streets, about nooks and crannies of the city.

There's no time to ask, no time to think.

Soul swallows hard and throws himself, Maka, and the wheelchair into the bay.

The water is cold and it sucks the breath from his body, forcing water down his throat and into his lungs. He resurfaces, thrashing to keep his head about the water. Maka pops up next to him, looking livid.

"We're supposed to be doing this together!" she shouts over the sound of sirens and the buzzing blades of the helicopter.

"You need to g-go," Soul grits between chattering teeth. The freezing water sinks into him, penetrating his bones, clutching his bones. He can't feel his fingers and the numbness is creeping up his arms. "You're safe- _go!_ "

"I'm not leaving you," Maka says firmly. She looks stronger in the salty water: Her skin is glowing, the hollows of her cheeks are fuller, her eyes sparkle under the sunlight.

She gnaws at her lip. "I-I can do something- But I can only do it once-"

"Soul Evans," It's Kid over a loudspeaker but the words are blurred in his mind. "Come out with your hands up. Both hands."

Kid doesn't matter.

Just Maka.

"Will you stay," she says, eyes blazing. She looks more nervous than he's ever seen her, including the time Ox came at her with a pair of tweezers.

 _She knows the directions to the beach, but not a basic beauty tools_.

"Will you stay with me?"

Yes, yes, yes.

But stay where? They're in the the freezing cold water, loaded weapons pointing at their heads, helicopters circling above their heads, and armed forces coming closer and closer to them in a speed boat.

He'll stay with her in this mess, in this hell.

Soul has to save her. If staying with her, in whatever sense she means, will help save her, he'll do it.

"Yes," Soul says and Maka doesn't hesitate. She takes his face between her hands and presses her lips to his. He grips her hands as she drags them down, her tail pushing them deeper and deeper into the water. She releases him to mumble "Open your mouth," and plants her lips on his again. He obliges. Bubbles rush from between his lips and Soul kicks with all his might as water invades his lungs.

She pushes his shirt off, her movements quicker than his. He's clumsy in the water, his eyes strain, and he fumbles with his belt as he tries to help, distracted by her lips and tongue. Maka pushes his pants down and Soul fights embarrassment, but there's not enough oxygen in his brain.

She shushes him, smiling against his mouth. "Just a little more."

He's calm as his bones knit together, his kicking smooths into gentle, rhythmic strokes from his tail.

 _He has a tail_.

Maka lets him rest for a moment, and, as they sink, the sunlight grows weaker and the water gets bluer.

She presses her forehead against his, and whispers, "Hi."

Soul gazes at her, his second set of eyelids sliding shut.

"Hi," he breathes.

 _He's so warm._


	6. Chapter 6

The scales itch. There is no way around it. And while the rock is warm, it's still a rock, and Soul is positive that it's screwing up his spine, no matter how Maka spun it.

If he even has a spine now.

He is pretty sure he does, having semi-confirmed it while stoking the curve in Maka's back as she curls up next to him on the stony beach. The moon shines overhead, round and silvery. He can just make out the gentle slope of her nose, her smushed cheek pressed up against his shoulder.

He misses his bed, but this was better.

Mostly better.

He's still learning to hold his breath, unused to long periods under the water. It makes him nervous, his human instincts stubbornly clinging to the vestiges of who he was. Every morning, as the mothers and the little ones watched on the beach, he and Maka practice, breathing deep, filling his new lungs and diving under the water. The little ones, months old, wiggle out of their mother's arms and join him in the water, their fat little arms churning the water around Soul, popping up for air less often than he does.

Soul sighs, squirming and then wincing as the hard rock dug into his skin. The place where his right knee used to be itches like crazy, he almost scratched his scales down to the nub until Maka commanded him to stop.

His own anatomy completely foreign.

But he's heart and spirit in a way he never was before.

Before Maka.

At least his black scales look cool.

"Are you ok?" Maka whispers. Her warm breath tickles his neck and he pulls her closer, pretending to sleep.

"Soul." It's her I want to talk voice, one he's grown familiar with the last few weeks.

Soul grunts in reply.

"I know you're not sleeping," she says, poking him in the cheek.

Night is the only time for privacy, sleeping on the rock like a platform, raised above the others. Being surrounded by merpeople on an outdoor beach doesn't provide much one on one time. He would be fine with the imposed insomnia if it weren't for the interrogation.

It's always the same, wanting to know about his life _before_ : His hobbies (piano, he told her, and she begged to hear him play until he reminded her of the lack of instruments in the ocean, and she sobered up quickly), his family (a brother in the Bureau, two parents perpetually vacationing in Italy), his job (he casually skips over the parts where he's put several trolls and a few fairies under arrest), and past relationships (pffffffft).

"What, Maka," he sighs dramatically. If she's going to pester him with more questions, he's not going to make it easy on her.

"Are you ok?" she asks, a little more timidly. "Being here?"

Here? With her?

Absolutely.

He made a choice. Even if he had another choice, another chance, he'd choose the one that landed him right there, on that rock, with Maka in his arms.

But maybe without the itchy scales.

"Of course I'm alright," he says, holding her tighter.

She regards him suspiciously. "Really?"

"Yeah," Soul smirks. "Can't have this badass tail back at the Bureau." Itchy, itchy tail.

She smacks his chest with the flat of her palm and he laughs. Her hand remains on his chest has his chuckles fade, pressing into his skin. Maka stares at her hand, her fingers tap in time with his heart beat (he knows he still has a heart, which is comforting).

"There's been talk," Maka begins hesitantly.

Soul waits. A breeze stirs her hair, her bangs shift with the wind. He smooths her hair down on her forehead, and places a gentle kiss there before she continues.

"The elders are talking about leaving, moving somewhere warmer," Maka explains. "Where it'll be safer. H-he might try and find us again."

It takes her a moment to control her breathing. Soul holds her, while surreptitiously glancing around in barely contained paranoia.

"How soon can we leave?"

Maka lifts herself onto her elbows and stares down at Soul. "Really?"

Soul blinks. "Yeah? I mean, we have to keep you and the squad safe, right? When can we leave?"

Maka stays quietly after a moment, staring down at him with her green cow eyes, glittering like her scales in the setting sun.

"Ok," she says, heaving herself up to sit. "Let's go." She slides off their rock, landing carefully on the soft sand. Soul watches her, amused because main mermaid (merperson, he mentally corrects himself) mode of movement out of the water involves a lot of inelegant wiggling.

"We're migrating now?" Soul asks, bemused.

"Nope," she replies, with a pop on the "p."

He gapes as she crawls across the sand, her scales smooth and blend into pale skin.

Maka crosses the sand until she reaches the copse of trees protecting the mermaids from view. She's a little unstable, tripping until she reaches one of the farthest trees and leans back against it, her legs stretched out in front of her. Long, bare legs, pale in the moonlight.

Mouth dry, eyes trailing up her smooth skin, Soul asks, "You can do that?"

Maka nods once.

"You never showed this to Ox," he accuses.

"Ox was an ass," Maka glowers. "And there were no windows in the lab. I couldn't tell if it was day or night."

Soul glances up at the moon, the phantom itch on his knee back in full force.

"Can I... do that?"

She hesitates, then nods again, slowly.

Soul rolls onto his stomach, and lowers himself off of their rock. He drags himself a few feet, but his tail and scales remain in tact.

"How-?" he begins, bewildered. He pauses as he glances at Maka, who is watching him intently.

Her gaze is intense, Soul feels exposed, as if he was the one completely bare, scales dropped away, instead of her.

Maka opens her arms to him and cocks her head. "Just come."

He obeys, as natural and easy as his knees sinking into the sand under his weight. He reaches her feet and he kisses the top of one of them. He moves his lips over her shin, knee, and up her thigh, tasting her skin with little flicks of his tongue. Maka squirms and sighs, her legs falling open on their own accord. Before Soul can truly appreciate the lovely, wet, newly exposed Maka, she takes two fist fulls of his hair and drags him up to her mouth, sucking on his bottom lip and holding him there. He moans, and presses his tongue against hers.

It's not the first time they've kissed, and if Soul gets his way it won't be the last, but it's the first time they've kissed like this, with desperation, with every inch of his skin possible sliding across hers. In the back of his very clouded head, he surmises that merpeople reproduce like humans do, partially because he can feel himself growing hard against her thigh. Soul briefly wonders, as his hands wander up to Maka's soft soft breasts if merpeople experience the same soul igniting pleasure.

He doesn't have time to test his hypothesis, because she slows them, gently kissing his lips before resting her forehead against his and smiling up at him through her eyelashes.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey," he mimics, and leans down to kiss her again. She allows him a couple more pecks before pushing him off her, both of them shivering from the sudden loss of heat.

"Time to go," she announces, skipping off deeper into the trees.

"Why," Soul whines. He hears himself and acknowledges that he sounds like a toddler being denied a sweet, but he doesn't care. He drags himself after her. "Can't we just stay here and make out?"

"We've got stuff to do," she replies, kneeling at the base of a tree with a large boulder at the base. She grunts as she shoves it aside and pulls out a bag from underneath the tree's exposed roots. Soul watches in mild surprise as she tosses a pair of pants and a plain white shirt at him.

"What?" she asks, pulling on a skirt and frilly pink top.

Soul gestures up her long legs. "No panties?"

"Don't need them," she replies smartly, sticking her tongue out at him.

He gets dressed slowly, keenly aware of her eyes glued to the lines that go from his hips down to his groin. Maka makes a small noise of disappointment as his skin disappears under denim and cotton.

"This was your idea," Soul reminds her.

She blushes from the roots of her hair all the way down her neck, and holds out her hand for him to take. "Let's go."

"Where? Ah, wait." He bends forward a little and digs his fingernails into his right knee, sighing as sweet relief floods his system.

They hike through the trees for what feels like hours, his now unfamiliar legs unused to the strain after weeks fused as a tail. Maka laughs as he tests his muscles, and helps Soul up after he occasionally squats and falls.

Towards the end of what feel like hour five, Maka sprints up ahead of him excitedly, disappearing between the trees. Soul stumbles out behind her, his hand on his knees and he struggles to catch his breath.

Maka laughs at him, but places her hand on his back, rubbing until he finally straightens and looks around.

Pavement. Electrical lights. Cars.

They're back in town.

"Did we just come down a wormhole?" Soul sputters.

Maka snorts. "No. We're going on a date."

She half drags him a few more blocks into town, where the streets are crowded with grinning locals and confused tourists. She assures him that they'll be lost in the herd but Soul is still dazed, torn between scooping Maka up and high-tailing back to the ocean where they'd both be safe and kneeling on the asphalt to kiss the solid, familiar ground. He can't focus on the rom-com Maka's giggling at because there are people with them in the theater that may or may not have seen his picture on the local news, reporting his theft of government property.

Also, because he's a merman with his mermaid girlfriend at the movies, without an ocean for miles away at least, with butter on his fingers and salt on his tongue. He's not even sure where Maka conjured the money from, she kept pulling bill after bill out of her pockets and paid for their tickets and snacks.

But Maka's laughing, open mouth crammed with gummy worms, and he can't himself to bring her out of the happy spell.

When the movie is over, Maka skips as they leave, Soul's hand clutched in hers. She leads him through the town, occasionally pausing to admire shiny baubles displayed in the windows.

She doesn't need to lead him.

Soul grew up in the town, he knows every inch of it.

Or, at least, he thought it he did.

Soul tugs Maka through the throngs of people, towards a narrow alley.

"What are you-?" She narrows her eyes, confused, but then they slide closed as Soul presses her against the hard brick wall and covers her mouth with his. The tension in her shoulders melts away, and Soul tightens his hold when he realizes.

Her shaking knees as she shows him how to walk across the sand.

Her manic laughter at the theaters.

Her bone crushing grip on his hand.

Maka was afraid.

As Soul's hand slides into Maka's hair, she fists the front of his shirt more firmly, securing herself to him further. He only stops when he feels wet on his cheeks, and pulls back.

"Woah, hey," Soul say. "Don't-don't do that."

"You can go back," she sniffs. "You were born human; you can go back whenever you want. You can stay."

Soul blinks. "Why would I want that?"

"You grew up here. Human," she says weakly. "You should be with other humans."

"Are you kicking me out?" he demands.

"No, no!" Maka quickly composes herself, steely determination replaces despair. "I'm giving you your choices back."

"I made my choice," Soul insists.

"You saved me and- and I took you away from your family, from your home-," she pauses to angrily swipe stray tears from her face. "You deserve better."

"I'm staying with you."

"But-"

"Shut up," Soul says calmly, putting his hands on her shoulders. She clamps her hands down on his, squeezing, as if she was hoping to keep him trapped in her grip.

There was no need.

"I'm staying with you," he says, leaning down to capture her mouth with his. It's so different than the desperate breath she gave him while trying to save his life. It's relief and comfort he feels as he moves his lips softly against hers. It's peace.

Until Maka pulls away violently and slaps his arm.

"That's him," she gasps, staring out of the alley way and into the crowded street. "It's the man who trapped me in the t-tub. It's him."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Last chapter! Thanks for reading!**

* * *

Soul shoves Maka behind him and does a quick sweep of the crowd. "What does he look like?"

"He's tall and always had a stupid hat on. He looks like the devil and _is one-_ "

"Be more specific," he says between gritted teeth. His hands feels around his back for his gun and growls when he remembers that he hasn't held a gun in weeks.

"Let's go," Soul says, and seizes her hand to drag her through the crowd, quickly weaving and ducking through the people.

They follow the black hat across town, staying on the periphery. With each step, Maka's grip in his hand gets tighter and tighter, and Soul squeezes right back. He sneaks a glance back at her when they duck behind a bus stop bench. Her hair sticks to her forehead in thin, sweaty strands. She breathes evenly, used to swimming distances, but can't help the rosy flush that sweeps across her nose and cheeks.

It's an extremely inappropriate thought this time, but she's unbearably cute, even when she looks like she's about to murder her former captor.

"There he is," Maka hisses, shaking Soul excitedly. "He's going in there-."

It's an old building, like the one Maka was found in, with mouldering brick and layers of spray painted grafitti.

She starts moving towards the building, but Soul holds her back.

"We have to go to my apartment," he says, tugging her away from the building.

"He's going to get away," she protests.

"We won't be able to do anything about him anyway," Soul replies gruffly. "We know where he lives, or at the very least we've got one of his hideouts."

Maka relents, but Soul can feel the anger and frustration coming off of her.

"No cuffs, no gun, no taser," he reminds her. "I just hope Wes hasn't cleared my stuff out..."

They grab a cab and head towards his place, further inland than Maka's ever been. She's restless in the backseat, squirming more and more as the beach disappears in the rearview mirror.

Maka slumps in the backseat when they arrive, her legs curled up on the seat and her head on her knees. Soul scoops her out of the cab and settles her down on her feet while he pays the fee with the money he fishes out of her pocket. He has to drag her up the stairs, all three flights, to the door of his apartment. He doesn't have the key, but he long mastered breaking into places he's not supposed to be.

Soul has to pick up Maka again, and he carries her over the threshold as a groom would carry a bride (he tries-and fails- not to blush at the thought, and wonders how mermaids marry, if they do, or whether it's like a penguin thing- permanent but unsaid). As he passes them, Soul notes that his things are mostly untouched. The floor is clear of clothing, but there are piles stacked haphazardly on the couch, and sheets of music all over the top of the piano crammed into the corner of the tiny apartment. Soul by passes all of it, pausing briefly in the kitchen to pick up a can of salt from the kitchen, and heads towards the bathroom. Maka, barely conscious, struggles weakly, her muttering growing louder and more desperate as Soul turns on the water in the tub of his bathroom.

"No, no, no-" Maka shakes her head violently. She clings to him, her nails digging into his skin.

Soul sets her on the edge of the tub, and hold her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at his face. "Maka, it's me-It's Soul." He places a hand on the top of her head and kisses her forehead. "You can get out whenever you want."

Her eyes focus on his, and she nods, but her grip on him stays tight. Soul helps her get in when the tub is filled to the brim, and pours out all of the salt left in the can.

* * *

"He's local," Soul remarks as he checks the cartridge on his gun. "Where we found you and where he is now are only a few miles apart. He might have a third or even a fourth place. Let's just hope he stays put until we get there." He's blabbering and he knows it, but he's actively trying to hide his shaking hands so a little word vomit is going to happen.

Maka quietly dries her hair with a spare towel, pensive. She's more alert after her saltwater bath, but she's moving slower than usual.

"We go in there," Soul continues, tucking a few more rounds into his jacket pocket. "And we arrest him."

"Where's mine?" Maka asks, gesturing towards Soul's hands.

"Are you a qualified agent? Do you have a gun licence?"

"How am I supposed to protect myself?" Maka asks indignantly.

Soul gapes at her. "You're _not_ coming."

"Of course I'm coming," Maka snaps.

"You can barely move," Soul says, and quickly stashes his gun in the waistband of his pants, out of sight.

"I have to, Soul," Maka says, glaring at him. "He took me from my _home_. Me and who knows how many others? I can stop him, finally stop him for good." She stands, knees wobbling for a moment and then standing firm. "I will protect my people. You can help me, but you will not stop me."

Maka glares at him, daring him to argue with her.

"Fine," Soul relents.

"And I want one of those." Maka adds hastily, waves her pant towards Soul's pants.

"Don't push it," he grumbles. "You can have the stun gun." Soul tosses it to Maka and she flips the switch, eyes alight in the blue electric crackle of the charge.

"Sweet," she breathes. "I want that, too." She points to the wall, where Soul's old hockey stick hangs on the wall.

"What do you that for?" Soul asks, bewildered.

"To hit him with," Maka says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Fine, I guess, whatever. Let's just go get him."

His words sober Maka, and she nods, determination setting deep in the frown lines of her mouth.

The cab over to Maka's captor's place is silent and tense. Soul keeps checking the safety on his gun, trying to be subtle, because cabbies are not usually kind to people who bring concealed weapons into their cars.

Soul stops the cab a block away from the apartment. They tread quietly, with an occasional _clunk,_ as Maka uses the hockey stick as a cane. The apartment complex itself isn't guarded, or difficult to get into. They walk in and Soul skims the names on the mailboxes, but Maka looks more carefully, touching each one gently.

"This one," she says, tapping one coated in stickers.

He doesn't ask how she knows, just holds her hand as she leads him up the stairs.

On the third floor, fourth door on the right, they stop. Soul cocks his head towards it questioningly and Maka nods, her face gray but determined. Soul backs up and prepares to charge at the door, but Maka stop him.

"Wait," she grabs his arm and forces him to look her in the eyes. They're bright with fear and desperation, like when first dumped her in the lab's tank. She seemed to small then, frail and fraying at the seams.

"I didn't think I would ever get out of there, of the t-tub," she says. "I thought I was going to die. But then you guys found me, you found me. I hadn't spoken in weeks, I didn't even know if I _could_ speak but I saw you and I had to try. And- and you heard me and turned around and looked at me like I was somebody, not just something. I love you, Soul. So much, I love you."

Soul hooks his hand around her neck and pulls her in, kissing her hard. It's too short for either of them, but they stop after a moment and press their foreheads together. Then they let go, raising their weapons in unison before kicking the door in and storm forward.

The door swings open with a _smack_ against the other wall, shaking the shelves crowded near it.

Whatever habit the guy developed before, it appears to have gotten worse.

Lining the shelves are jars and jars of small creatures. Fairies struggle inside jars, their tiny lights weak. Huge, hairy heads of manticores mounted on the walls still drip green blood down the walls. An entire unicorn that's been stuffed stands by the window, its neck stiff and unnatural, the horn broken off and missing. They nearly trip over the severed wings of what have been a pegasus, because they spot something much, much worse.

By the window across the room, shrunken and dried and hanging from the ceiling, are rows and rows of mermaid tails. The scales, their sheen long lost, flake off and gently fall to the floor.

"Bastard," Soul breathes.

Maka stumbles over to them, her face blank. She points to each one as she remembers their names. "Meme… Feather… Ugh, Kana," she groans.

"I had to move them," a deep voice from behind them says. "The light was damaging."

Soul turns quickly and points his gun towards the source. Maka's captor barely glances at them. Calm, he places on the coffee table and straightens. He's tall, with a black cap on his head and a heavy black jacket. Belts criss-cross his white shirt and sagging pants, more for decoration than for function.

Maka doesn't turn around. "Why?" she asks in barely a whisper, gently touching the decaying fins of a long passed mermaid.

"They are a part of my collection," he says simply.

"You're an asshole," Maka hisses, finally turning around.

"I'm Noah," he responds.

"Put your hands up," commands Soul, a little ticked that Noah hasn't even spared him one glance.

"You were an excellent addition," Noah continues, ignoring Soul. "I've had other mermaids, but none like you. You… sensed me before I even left the boat." He gazes at her, contemplatively. "I would have kept you whole."

Maka screeches and flips the switch of her Taser towards Noah, screeching louder when nothing happens.

"Maka-BACK," Soul barks. She rears back and Soul squeezes off two shots, shattering two pixie jars. The pixies zoom around Noah's head, pulling his hair and clawing at his eyeballs. Noah smacks them away and grabs a small handgun from the table and aims it at them.

"I won't hurt you," he says to Maka. "I need your for my collection. You, however," Noah points his gun directly at Soul's head. "You are not worth collecting."

Maka ducks under Soul and Noah's outstretched arms and wacks Noah's knees with the edge of the hockey stick. He falls to the floor with a grunt, gun aloft.

Maka rears back into Soul, grabs his arm and yanks his arm to point the gun to her temple.

Soul immediately pulls his finger off of the trigger and hisses, "Maka what the fu-"

"Trust me," she snaps back. She gives his hand a hard squeeze, which is less than reassuring over the hand that grips the gun.

"She belongs to _me_ ," Noah says, calm and quiet as death and it sends ice cold tendrils of fear up and down Soul's spine.

"He'll do it! He's crazy- He ran away with a stolen mermaid!" Maka warns. "And made out with her! A lot! And gave me a hickey!"

"What the hell, Maka?!" Soul says, bewildered.

She shoots him a meaningful look, nodding subtly towards Noah, who was shaking with fury.

 _Right!_

Noah hits them with a hard glare.

"You've damaged my possession?" he asks

"I've damaged your possession three times," gloats Soul, sliding his hand across Maka's waist. " _Today."_

"How dare you ruin what is mine," Noah growls. He stands and takes aim again. Maka bursts from Soul's grasp, dodging both their lines of fire. Soul fires off shot after shot, hitting and destroying as many item in the apartment as possible. Noah roars as as his manticore head bursts in a rain of fur and scales.

Noah stops short, pieces of glass and manticore gently cascading down onto his shoulders.

"My collection," he sighs.

Maka leaps over the shattered coffee table and shoves the end of her stun gun into Noah's back. He collapses, unconscious on the floor.

* * *

The pixies, a softly glowing one named Tsubaki and a bright one named Black Star, agree to wait for the Bureau to collect Noah, so they can be witnesses in his trial.

They hover around Noah, Black Star hissing and shouting at him, Tsubaki holding the pen she found menacingly in the air.

After Maka took down Noah, Soul calls up Liz and tells her what happened since he ran away with Maka, glossing over the specifics ("You're fucking the mermaid?" Liz exclaims. "How does that even work?"). Soul, after several minutes trying to get Liz to concentrate, asks her to come help unofficially arrest Noah.

She arrives and finds Noah handcuffed to the stuffed unicorn, and Soul and Maka chatting with the pixies they released.

Liz bounces happily around the apartment, taking more pictures of Soul and Maka than of the Noah or the evidence.

"Patty is going to flip when I tell her stodgy old Soul has a freaky, scaly girlfriend," she says gleefully, blinding them with the flash.

"I'm not freaky," Maka says defensively. "I'm a _mermaid_."

Liz's reply is interrupted by a rush of white and black shoving Maka aside and attaching itself to Soul, lifting him up off his feet.

"Little brother!"

"Hi, Wes," Soul says, awkwardly patting his brother on the back, his arms limited by the bear hug his brother tangled him in. Over his brother's shoulder, Soul hisses at Liz, "You brought _Wes?"_

Liz shrugs. "He was already with me."

Soul opens his mouth to ask but Wes drops him and whisks Maka up in a hug of her own.

"And you must be Maka," Wes says excitedly. "I read all about you."

Soul cocks his head.

Wes chuckles, setting Maka down. "After the stunt you pulled, you both have files two inches thick."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that," Maka says nervously.

"Don't worry," Wes says reassuringly. "I'm going to arrange a plea deal. You did manage to arrest the world's biggest fairy-murdering asshole, that's worth at least five to ten years off of your sentence."

Soul shakes his head slowly. "Bro, no."

"Ox and his nerds are going to want to want to take your rectal temperature when they get here," Wes continues. "Ma's losing her shit, too. You're going to have to visit her, get her off my jock."

"Can't," Soul says gravely. "We have to go back." He reaches for Maka's hand.

She hesitates, glancing at his outstretched fingers. "Are you sure?"

Soul smiles, and Wes seems taken aback.

"'course I am," Soul says. To a still-shocked Wes he says, "I'm not calling Ma. We're getting out of here and going back home."

 _Home._

Wes glances back and forth between the two of them, his surprise wearing off and a giant grin spreading across his face.

"I suppose I can play the part of mourning older brother," Wes sighs exaggeratedly. "Tricked into arresting a criminal and left to collect evidence by myself."

"Hey," Liz says, offended. "I'm the para-forensic photographer. I'm actually doing my job right now." She snaps of few more pictures of Soul and Maka, to emphasize her point. Also blinding them slightly.

"Actually, Liz," Maka says timidly. "Could you do us a favor?"

* * *

Liz waves goodbye to them from her van, having unloaded all of the bags of evidence from Noah's apartment. Soul helps Maka open up each bag, gently removing each tail and laying them down in the water, watching them disintegrate in the sea foam. The mermaids are quiet in the water, the closest any of them have been to the city, completely still and watching Soul and Maka do their work. Once they lay the last, the smallest and oldest among those they had found, in the water the mermaids nod at them, their fins giving them a final wave goodbye before disappearing under the surface.

As Maka watches her- _their_ \- people swim home, she toes the sand absently. Soul watches her, her hair stirs in the light breeze. He reaches out, tucking her loose hair behind her ear, feeling please when her cheeks flush.

"And you, Soul?" Maka asks shyly.

He scoffs, taking her hand in his. "Do you even have to ask?"

The drop their clothes on the sandy shore, walking into the surf until they're waist-deep in water. They dive and their legs twist and twine into scales and fins. They swim deeper and deeper into the water, going home, together.


End file.
